Here are those times recreated By the brutal-force of sun-drenched images The light of live - Tragedy With the knowledge that all for which we lived Was only a dream - Only a dream The courtroom walls The field of execution The far off phantoms in a circle Periphery of Rome Bleached white in naked light The shots - Our death - Our survival All slaves, an immediate fate that's worth a life Young men pierced by so many tears From every pore From their eyes From the roots of the hair to their own chest Slaves of time Slaves of these days With the knowledge that all for which we lived Was only a dream only a dream Slaves of time Slaves of these days With the knowledge that all for which we lived It wasn't for real wasn't for real Here are those times recreated As an horrid vision of their martyrdom The light of live - Tragedy Unjustified, unobjective A source of solitary shameful tears